


divine interventions

by skytramp



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Heart-to-Heart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It wasn’t the first time that Adam thought he’d be better off without his ambition. What if he could simply be content working any of his jobs, maybe being a mechanic, living in Henrietta for the rest of his life? What would it feel like to not have this vicious ache in his chest at the idea of not being someone, something more than this town, more than his father. </i><br/> <br/><i>It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it, but it was the first time he’d said it outloud.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	divine interventions

It wasn’t the first time that Adam thought he’d be better off without his ambition. What if he could simply be content working any of his jobs, maybe being a mechanic, living in Henrietta for the rest of his life? What would it feel like to not have this vicious ache in his chest at the idea of not being someone, _something_ more than this town, more than his father.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it, but it was the first time he’d said it outloud, and judging by the unusually shocked expression on Ronan’s face, it was a surprise. They stood in the sanctuary of St. Agnes, Adam with his head down, staring at the floor between the pews, and Ronan with his arms crossed in front of him. It was only Adam’s second time in the room, and also his second time with Ronan, alone and after dark, and he desperately hoped it wouldn’t end the same way.

Ronan had been tapping his foot, up until Adam’s recent emotional outburst, but his foot had frozen along with his expression.

“What the hell does that even mean?” The words sounded like Ronan, and it was his voice, but the tone was all wrong. It was softer, not as angry, maybe.

“I don’t know.” Adam replied. He truly didn’t know, he certainly didn’t want to try and explain himself. He’d already said too much, more than enough.

“No way.” The anger was back, and Adam almost sighed in relief. “You can’t just say that shit and then pretend like you didn’t say it.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Adam turned, walking quickly towards the main church doors. He’d go around the corner and enter the stairwell to his room from the back. He didn’t want to cross by Ronan, to take a chance of him stopping him.

Ronan moved, quicker than Adam thought he would, and barred the doorway with his outstretched arm.

“Talk to me.” He commanded and Adam just turned around again. Ronan couldn’t block both exits simultaneously, he’d give up soon.

Ronan was in front of him again, this time cutting between a few pews and catching Adam’s bicep in his hand. Adam tried to shake him off but the grip was firm. When Adam looked Ronan’s expression was fierce, concentrated.

“Talk to me, asshole.”

 “You really shouldn’t be lecturing me about communication.”

“Okay, fuck you.” For a second his voice was casual, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

Adam slumped his shoulders and looked at the floor again, where the wooden floors were scuffed, the worn edges of the pews.

“What do you want me to say?”

Ronan considered the question for a few seconds, before releasing Adam’s arm and slumping into the nearest pew. Adam didn’t move. Despite the fact that he was sure he could run up to his room and shut the door, part of him didn’t want to anymore. He supposed it was the same part of him that prompted to tell Ronan some of his biggest worries, the part of him that wanted Ronan to care.

“You wouldn’t be you.” Ronan said, more into his hands than anything, and Adam turned towards him, confused. “Without your ambition, you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be your father, no matter what, but you also wouldn’t be Adam.” The way he said _“father”_ , with none of the reverence reserved for his own, the malice and anger behind it, almost made Adam want to smile. That tone mirrored the larger part of his own feelings, and it was nice to hear.

“I don’t know if I’m me anymore anyway.” Another fear, whispered to the open air of St. Agnes, for no one but God and Ronan to hear. Could he even say he was himself, with the voices of Cabeswater whispering in his ears?

“You are.” Ronan said quickly, as if there was no doubt.

“How can you know?”

“I’m good at spotting fakes, can’t grow up surrounded by dream shit without being able to spot it eventually. If you weren’t you, Parrish, I’d know in three seconds.”

Adam sat in the pew across the aisle, too far away for them to speak had the church been full, but in the dark emptiness even whispers could be heard, the wood creaked beneath him.

“Why do I believe you?” Adam asked, probably more to himself than anything, but Ronan laughed in response.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. But I’m not lying.”

Adam sat back in the pew, leaning his head back until he was staring at the dark ceiling high above them. “I know you aren’t.” He replied, a little too late. They lapsed into silence again. Adam heard a car pass down the street, the call of some nocturnal bird through the open sanctuary door.

“Hey, Parrish?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I’d help you, right? If you needed it.” His voice was soft again and Adam wanted to look at him, to see his expression, but he stared at the ceiling instead.

Adam did know. When he figured out that Ronan had gone out of his way to lower his rent, that had been the largest act, but there had been dozens, probably hundreds, of small things, tossed under the rug in the face of his gruff personality, ways Ronan had been a good friend.

He just nodded, hoping that Ronan was looking, or that he could hear it, somehow. After a few more minutes of silence Adam heard Ronan move, and when he turned he saw he was standing.

“I’m gonna go.” He said, stepping into the aisle. Adam thought he would leave, straight up the aisle and out through the open door, but he took a step closer to where Adam was sitting. He pulled the hand from his pocket and set it on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing gently through the t-shirt. “See you tomorrow?”

Adam nodded again, and watched as Ronan left St. Agnes’. He sat in the pew for a long time, long enough that he didn’t notice when the morning birds began to chirp until the light from pre-dawn crept through the open door and tall windows and lit the sanctuary. He didn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without worrying, or even thinking about the next thing on his to-do list. He hadn’t been thinking about anything but the soft, strange lilt of Ronan’s voice, and the warmth of his hand on his shoulder.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work for trc, and one of my first fics that isn't for an animanga fandom, come say hi to me over on [@iwaizumemes](http://www.twitter.com/iwaizumemes)


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